


A Rain-Scented Rendezvous

by Flightstone



Category: Tales of Graces
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 22:50:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9261656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flightstone/pseuds/Flightstone
Summary: Isabel learns instant, stubborn dislike when her parents invite a young lady from the capital to be their house guest. But just like the weather, Isabel finds her feelings towards the girl changing. Four years later, on a rainy day at the Royal Knight Academy, Isabel discovers just how precious she is to her. (Genderswap AU.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story was born from an old meme on Dreamwidth, wherein someone requested genderbent Asbel and Richard getting intimate on Lhant Hill. Although this isn’t that story, my attempts at writing it inspired a particularly rainy day.
> 
> Also, I would like to thank a certain someone for previewing this fic, and for making some very helpful suggestions.
> 
> Lastly, I apologize for many of these names.

A rain-scented rendezvous.  
That’s what she called it.

Although Isabel thought it awfully poetic, bordering on downright _awful_ , she couldn’t deny that with the change in the weather, something else had changed too.

*  *  * 

When Isabel first laid eyes on her, she knew Roderica was exactly the sort of daughter her parents wished she was. Quiet, proper, and clothed in a ruffled green dress, the golden-haired girl sat with gloved hands clasped in her lap and legs neatly crossed, her thin smile reminding Isabel of a china doll. With a timid nudge from Huberta, Isabel sank into a chair beside Aunt Alice. That smile held fast, but Isabel thought it looked painted on. Even so, the mysterious young lady had excellent manners, well enough to rival any princess.

Of course, Isabel hadn’t known at the time that she really _was_ a princess.

Isabel hadn’t known anything but instant, stubborn dislike.

Dad was always telling her to behave fitting of her heritage, and Mom was always barking at her to be more respectful and considerate to everyone, but Isabel didn’t care. Isabel would rather chase around town with the boys or splash in the creek and come home with mud soaking her socks up to the knees. She’d rather explore the woods and rolling hills, pretending to be a knight on an adventure. Female knights weren’t unheard of, after all. And if Huberta protested it was too dangerous, and if Mom said she didn’t have enough discipline to last a week at the Royal Training Academy, she clung to the idea all the more fiercely.

Isabel knew she’d never be the lady they wanted. At six, she burst through the front door with bee stings and honeycomb wedged in her hair; they kept it trimmed short after that. At nine she’d broken her arm twice and been punished more times than she could count for picking fights and bending rules. (Not that she ever really started him...the fights. You’d think they’d be glad she was trying to protect her little sister’s honor!)

At first they told her not to inconvenience their house guest, no doubt afraid she’d rub off on her the same way she’d taken command of Huberta and the housekeeper’s son. That suited Isabel just fine since needlework and tea parties sounded like just about the most boring things ever. Then, they decided, perhaps Roderica could rub off on her.

Big mistake.  
Big, _big_ mistake.

Two hours of fussing later Isabel sat opposite her, shoved into a white sundress and glaring defiance at the tea service between them. The awkward silence stretched on. For once, their guest’s polite conversation faltered, and she seemed unsure as she watched Isabel stiffly over the rim of her teacup.

‘This is it,’ Isabel thought, bracing for a lecture on etiquette.

That was exactly when Roderica’s tutor, the Lady Beatrice, did the unthinkable and lunged out with weapons like claws. That was when Roderica, panicked, still managed to flash a dagger that had been hidden inside her dress. That was when Isabel used the distraction to slam the bulk of a wooden sword down on Lady Beatrice’s shoulder.

And that was when she changed her mind about the girl who knelt shaking to pick up the broken pieces. Isabel crouched down next to her and laid a hand over hers.

“You okay? Seriously, don’t worry about it. We’ve got plenty of teacups.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s _fine_ . I’m just, uh, glad you’re all right.” To Isabel’s surprise, she really _was_ glad. Roderica glanced up at her in silent astonishment, probably as shocked as she was.

“Good thing I was here to protect you, huh?” Isabel continued, trying not to fidget with the lacy trim scratching at the back of her neck. “I mean… we made a pretty good team back there!”

Later, she found out: the mystery lady was actually the one-and-only crown princess of Windor.

Roderica craved adventure, she learned. She found fancy gatherings tiresome, and beneath the quiet authority, mischief caught in her eye and the upward hook of her mouth. Roderica delighted in the natural world, in the everyday doings of her future people. She longed to craft it all into a peaceful nation. She adored the quaintness of the Lhant countryside just as much as Isabel did -- they both agreed there was just something about the place, something wild and free and frankly pretty darn awesome.  And best of all Roderica...listened. She took her dream of becoming a knight seriously. Becoming friends, from there, was as simple as breathing.

“Isabel, I’d like to ask a favor before I go,” she said one day.

“What is it?” Isabel asked as the two of them walked side-by-side through the streets of Lhant, passing Lord Windegarde who turned as slowly and surely as ever.

There was a thoughtful pause, and then: “I was wondering if you would call me by my name. That is normally the way friends address one another, is it not?”

Isabel frowned at once. “Yeah, that’s usually true, but I don’t think I can do that.”

The princess looked up, startled. “Why ever not? I’ve given you my permission. Is it because...we’ve been friends for only a short while? Or maybe...”

Isabel glanced over and saw her staring at her feet, her usually pleasant expression clamped down tight.

“No, that’s not it! Look. I know this is going to sound rude, but I just don’t think your name suits you at all. So I can’t call you by it.”

“I see…” she murmured. She’d explained once that the name meant something like ‘renowned ruler’. Isabel felt a little guilty, knowing that’s what she wanted to become, if she had to be a princess.

“...But tell you what, I’ll do something better.” Isabel declared. “Since we’re friends, I’ll give you your very own me-approved nickname! How’s that?”

“A nickname? No one has ever given me a nickname before…”

“Then it’s settled. From now on I’ll call you…. _Rica_. So what do you think?”

The princess peered at her. “‘Rica’?”

Isabel rubbed the back of her neck, hopping along backwards so they could talk more easily.

Shrugging, she asked: “No good?”

“N-no, it’s perfect… please call me Rica from now on.” Rica smiled then. “I love it. Thank you, Isabel.”

“No problem!” Isabel was grinning so wide her cheeks hurt.

The two continued on in silence for a while before Rica spoke up again, almost shy in the fading light of a setting sun. “I admit I’m relieved… I was worried you still hated me.”

“What?! I never hated you, Rica.”

“You didn’t seem very happy about it, though, when we first met…” she pointed out.

“Oh, _that_. It wasn’t your fault. I was just annoyed my parents invited some stuffy lady over and then started telling me what I should and shouldn’t do around her. They’re always nagging me to act more lady-like, so I thought you’d be that way too…”

Rica lifted a hand to her chin. “A ‘stuffy lady’, huh?”

“Not that _you’re_ stuffy!” Isabel backtracked quickly, arms flailing and almost tripping over one of the chickens. “That’s just what I thought at the time. Yeesh.”

Rica laughed into her palm. “It’s okay, Isabel. I understand. So then, we really are friends?”

“You bet! Friends and comrades.”

“In that case…” Rica paused, and then shook her head as if she’d made a decision. “Isabel, you should come by and visit me at the castle someday. Perhaps I can even arrange a tour of the knight academy.”

“Really?! You’d do that?” Isabel’s mouth had fallen open.

“Being a stuffy lady has its perks, you know,” she teased.

“Hey! Like I said…!” Isabel let out an embarrassed huff, then extended her hand. Rica, after a moment’s hesitation, reached out to take it, the cryas ring on her finger gleaming.

“Fine, it’s a deal! I’ll definitely take you up on that offer. But not because you’re arranging a tour or anything. Because…. Because it’ll be pretty boring here...without you around.”

Rica smiled at that, a brilliant smile that tugged another grin up on Isabel’s face.

“All right. I’ll be waiting. Until then, Lady Isabel.”

And that’s how it ended. Or, how it would have, except despite all the rubbing off Rica might have done, Isabel had never become a true lady and never learned to take no as an answer either. After being grounded for endangering herself and the crown princess, Isabel struck off for the capital with plans to sneak into Barona Castle during the night. It was her biggest mistake of all, her deepest regret… and the event that set everything else into motion.

*  *  *

Rain came down in torrents. Reports said the path to Orlen Woods was treacherous. Carts had caught in the soggy earth, and mudslides from up in the mountains had buried the remote northern edge of the town. The knight instructors had deemed it too dangerous for junior cadets, and so Isabel was holed up in her room like all the others, halfheartedly hammering out a paper due at the end of the week and even less successfully trying to stay awake. The constant rhythm against the windowpane only worked to lull Isabel into a fog.

Giving in, Isabel pushed back her chair and went to lower the curtain. An afternoon nap didn’t seem so bad on a day like this. The Captain was always preaching the importance of rest, after all. But what she saw blurred through the trails of rain set her to instant alertness. Someone was trudging through the inner courtyard - a noblewoman from the looks of it - doing her best to keep a great deflated balloon of material from tangling about her feet.

_What in the world??_

Isabel’s window was way too small to fit through (and that was if it felt like opening), but she’d learned the ins and outs of the knight academy in the four years she’d spent there. Soon she was racing along the slippery path and dodging patches of wet grass, her footsteps muted by the sound of rain hissing off flagstones.

The noblewoman must not have noticed her yet, because she had stopped, weighted down by her gown as she glanced about at the various identical hallways. The academy could only be described as a maze, and new cadets often got lost within its walls.

“Excuse me, are you lost?”

The woman jumped, turning in Isabel’s direction with a start. Her arm flew to the folds of her gown, but Isabel suspected that even if she did plan to draw a weapon on her, it wouldn’t be too difficult to block it in time. Rather than waiting for that to happen, though, Isabel held up her empty hands. The woman seemed to relax, but barely.

“Didn’t mean to scare you. Are you in trouble, milady?” Isabel asked. Her defensive reaction alone had been unusual, to say the least.

“I’m sorry to intrude…” she began in a quiet voice. “I came here hoping to meet with someone.”

“Oh, you did? Sorry, a lot of the instructors are out dealing with the situation in Orlen.” Isabel explained.

The woman observed her with a guarded expression, blinking away raindrops.

Isabel finally remembered her manners then. “Ahh, there’s an overhang over there. It can’t be too comfortable for you like that.”

The woman made no effort to move into the shelter of the school. Instead, she folded her arms closer.

“Can I ask who it is you were hoping to speak with? If you want, I can leave a message with them for you.” Isabel offered.

“She isn’t one of the instructors...” the woman said finally, as if measuring her words with care.

“Oh, well in that case. I know most of the students here? Um… Right. My name’s Isabel,” she replied hastily, hoping to diffuse what was turning into a very awkward conversation.

“Isabel…” the woman repeated with a slight tilt of her head. She’d barely seemed to take any interest in speaking with her before now, but now Isabel felt self-conscious in a way she couldn’t exactly pin down.

“Uh, yeah?”

“I suppose you don’t recognize me,” she said at last.

“Umm…” It was Isabel’s turn to stare. If this woman was familiar, it was difficult to tell with waterlogged hair smothering her shoulders and the dreary atmosphere graying out her features. Even so, Isabel felt like she should be able to figure this out.

As if sensing her dilemma, the woman smiled gently, her grip unwinding as the tension dropped from her shoulders. “On second thought, a place out of the rain might be preferable.”

“Sure,” Isabel replied, at a loss. “Let’s get you somewhere warmer.”

*  *  *

Five minutes.  
It took five minutes before the answer came crashing over Isabel like a whole suit of armor dropped on her head.

“--Rica!”

“It took you a while, Isabel,” Rica’s amused voice chimed up beside her. In the following seconds, Rica seemed to have loosened up quite a lot, even accepting the crook of her arm when she offered it on their way dripping up the stairs. From the way she anchored herself on each step before hoisting her skirts over the edge, Isabel was positive it didn’t just look like a struggle.

“Rica, this is crazy…. What are you doing here? And why--why were you sneaking around the courtyard in that thing??”

“I came to see you, of course.”

Rica’s words seemed so casual, now, that Isabel couldn’t tell if she was serious or joking. To see... _her?_ No one from her childhood had come to see her since she ran away from home. But now Rica was here, just for that. The thought warmed her face, even though the hallways were completely open to the weather, and likely just as cold.

“It’s the truth,” Rica added more seriously. “Is that not reason enough?”

“No, it’s fine, I just…thought maybe you’d forgotten all about me.”

“I’d never forget about you,” Rica assured her, so fondly that Isabel had no doubt she was being sincere.

“You either. Now come on…” Isabel said finally. “It’ll cause a big fuss if anyone else sees you. And you said you wanted to talk, right?”

*  *  *

While Rica stood dripping just inside the doorway, Isabel scurried - also dripping - around her tiny room, shoving random articles and effects into drawers and deep into the darkest most forbidden corners of an even tinier wardrobe, hoping Rica didn’t feel like being adventurous for a change.

“I should have been more discreet,” Rica was saying, as if admonishing herself. “But I wasn’t sure where I might find you. I’d heard rumor that the cadets were being sent on a field mission over the weekend, but...”

“Yeah, that got rained out. The seniors went with Major Victor and the Captain, but they said the rest of us should stay here in the meantime…”

Rica nodded, then said: “I apologize about your floor.”

Isabel smiled. “It’s not my floor. Besides, I’m pretty sure no one will notice one extra track of wet footprints. But we should get you out of that. I know you must be uncomfortable.”

Digging around, Isabel managed to procure a spare set of riding clothes, one she’d actually had time to press. “Here. I know they’re not much, but they’re clean at least, and dry…”

“They’re perfect. Thank you,” Rica replied graciously, turning away before Isabel could decide if she’d seen a line of worry cross her face or if she’d just imagined it. “I admit this visit was a bit spur of the moment.”

“Good to know that much hasn’t changed,” Isabel replied lightly while she turned her back and wriggled out of her sopping wet jacket. “So what did you come here to talk about? I’m guessing it wasn’t for fashion advice.”

Rica giggled. “Unfortunately, no. But perhaps that discussion can be saved for another time.”

“What, then?”

It was still hard to believe… It’d been so long since they’d last seen each other. Sure, Isabel had thought about going to visit her, but things weren’t quite so easy now. And word had it the princess rarely journeyed outside. It wasn’t so surprising. Rica was definitely someone worth protecting, and in the years they’d spent apart, she’d grown even more beautiful - the kind of beautiful that could easily melt hearts. Even Isabel could see that.

Meanwhile Isabel… was making progress, sure, but knight training was difficult. Captain Malikah had taught her many ways to overcome the physical demands of the field, drilling her on striking out swiftly rather than relying on pure strength, showing her ways to knock an enemy off-balance and target their weak points, but she still had such a long way to go. She might yet become a knight, but standing next to Rica, the frustrated words of her parents drifted back to her.

She’d never be a lady. At least, not that kind.

“...Isabel?”

“Yeah?” Isabel answered automatically. Rica still stood there in her ballgown, having set aside her boots and gloves.

She offered a meek smile, face flushed. “I….If it doesn’t trouble you too much, I could use a bit of assistance.”

“O-oh, right…”

Rica turned her back to her, slipping her still-dripping hair over one shoulder and out of the way. Isabel’s throat had gone instantly dry. She didn’t know what was the matter with her. She’d helped Huberta in and out of itchy dresses dozens of times when they were young, or at least every time one of their birthdays rolled around. It wasn’t like this was any big deal either, since they were friends. Except that it kind of was.

How many times had she daydreamed about seeing Rica again, of sweeping into a bow and kneeling at her feet, a true knight, and swearing her sword along with her undying, unyielding loyalty? Isabel’s cheeks burned at the thought as she fumbled with the laces, and together they worked to free Rica from her lacey, ruffled, and most definitely ruined gown.

Rica sighed with relief, pulling on Isabel’s trousers and tunic and securing them around her hips with a belt. Isabel, snapping out of her daze, had the decency to look away. Of course. Even in cadetwear the princess looked great.

“These are quite well made,” she was saying with appreciation.

“Yeah, I guess they are,” Isabel admitted.

“And easy to move around in, as well. Not at all like that dress.”

“Uh-huh… But, wow, it looks like we wrestled the lake monster in here.”

Rica cast her a questioning glance before they both set their attention once again on the floor and the great limp “beast” slung across the back of the chair.

“That may not be too far from the truth,” Rica replied. “I’ve heard of this lake monster before. Though it often chooses to remain in the depths of Lake Grale, it has occasionally been known to take human form.”

“That’s not the version I heard.... So what happens when it takes human form?” Isabel asked, scooting a rug into the middle of the room to absorb most of the mess.

“It sneaks into crowded cities to prey on any unlucky and unfortunately lovely gentlewomen of course.”

Isabel snorted at once, “Good thing there’s only one of those here.”

Rica, who’d been brushing aside a wet curl, looked up as if startled by her words.

“Don’t worry, though, Your Highness,” Isabel stated firmly. “I won’t let the lake monster take you away.”

“I didn’t think you would.”

“You know I wouldn’t.”

With a curt nod, Rica paced the room, then deeming it okay, settled down on the bed and crossed her legs beneath her. Isabel sat down next to her.

“Isabel,” she began, “the reason why I’m here…”

“Hmm?”

“The reason is that there isn’t any particular reason at all. I simply...wanted to see you, and this seemed like my most likely opportunity to do so. Castle life has become quite hectic and… well. I suppose it was only a matter of time before I got caught up in court politics.”

“Don’t you always take part in court politics, though?” asked Isabel. “I mean, you’re the princess.”

“Marriage politics, let us say,” Rica said.

“Oh.” Isabel knew enough about that. Finding ‘a good match’ was something her father had always harped upon. ‘A good match’ always preceded everything else.

“Fortunately they have three years yet to continue their debate,” Rica added. “In the meantime, I’ll be debating ways to improve the state of the country.”

“Sounds like they need to get their priorities straightened out. I know you can do it, Rica.” Isabel had never doubted that, once, listening to her all those years ago on their hillside.

“One can only hope.”

“Can I ask you a question, though?”

“What is it?”

“Why _were_ you wearing that ballgown anyway? Pretending to be Cinderella?”

Rica smiled wryly. “There was a fancy gala… Normally it would be impossible for me to get away, but this gathering happened to become particularly festive. I pretended to feel ill and departed early for my quarters.”

“Only, I take it you didn’t?”

“Only I probably should have. It isn’t a simple matter to climb so many staircases in high heels and a corset.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet that’s true. Not that I’ve tried it lately.”

Rica laughed again softly, and something within her stirred.

“What now?” Isabel wondered.

“It’s funny. You were always the one to get into trouble before. As I recall, you made a career of avoiding your studies and running about Lhant. At least, that’s what you told me.”

“I can’t deny it. And now you’re the one playing hookie. Guess I really did rub off on you after all.”

“Ha. I suppose you did, didn’t you?” Rica agreed, another curl falling over her eyes as she tossed her head in amusement.

Before Isabel knew what she was doing, her knuckles had grazed damp skin, smoothing back the loose ringlet.

Rica stared at her, an expression so astonished and innocent that it kindled in her chest. Yes, Rica was the sort of lady that she would never be. Charming, intelligent, able to turn a conversation on its head. Isabel respected her, was prepared to dedicate her life to her one day. Isabel cherished their friendship, what they shared between them now, and also…

Isabel knew her hands must be trembling, hyper-aware of every point where they connected, her fingers brushing Rica’s cheek, Rica’s loosely gripping her sleeve.

Isabel leaned in slow, searching Rica’s eyes for even the smallest sign of fear, doubt...disgust even. But Isabel found nothing like that, nothing at all as those deep amber eyes dipped shut, and the warmth of her breath tickled Isabel’s face.

Hands still shaking, Isabel kissed her.

What was she thinking? She obviously wasn’t thinking at all! Surely kissing the crown princess was a slap in the face to chivalry.

But Rica was kissing her back, she realized, her hands sliding easily over Isabel’s shoulders to play with the scruffy curls at the back of her neck that were too difficult to trim on her own. Rica, as usual, understood, and when Isabel pulled her closer, Rica didn’t resist.

They stayed that way a good while, Rica’s body tucked gently against hers, Rica - patient with Isabel’s fumbling - parting her lips to deepen the kiss.

When Rica finally drew away, it was with a sigh, her cheeks tinted pink. “That was rather…”

“Spur of the moment, yeah,” Isabel offered, trying to push aside any lingering thoughts about how smooth Rica’s skin was under her touch or how the scent of the rain still clung to her, cool and inviting. “You smell like rain.”

“Uh, that is--!  I meant…!” Isabel groaned, burying her head in her hands.

Rica ran a comforting hand over her scalp and pressed a fleeting kiss against her brow, then leaned back on her heels. “A rain-scented rendezvous. Quite poetic if you ask me”, she observed, tapping her chin in thought.

“I’m not so sure about that…” Isabel mumbled through her fingers, still humiliated.

“Is there something else you’d rather call it?” Rica asked.

 _‘Amazing_ ,’ Isabel thought. _Fantastic. Mind blowing._ With another flush of embarrassment, she bit those thoughts down.

“Thanks,” was what she settled upon, and could have kicked herself for it.

But as always, Rica seemed to understand, because she smiled. “For visiting you? Or for the…”

“B-both!” Isabel stammered. “For both.”

“...You’re welcome.”

They talked for an hour after that. Isabel excitedly recited the knight’s code of honor, how she’d learned to handle a blade, and about all the people she’d met while running errands in the city. Rica was less forthcoming, but Isabel found it fascinating all the same as Rica summarized the current state of affairs, expanding her knowledge of the world well beyond Windor’s borders to neighboring countries with their cryas shortages and rumors of advanced war technology. According to Rica, Strahtan scientists had even developed a way to make water float through the air in multicolored spirals. They spoke, too, of their hopes. Isabel confessed she still dreamt of graduating the academy and joining the Royal Guard. Rica, meanwhile, was set on finding a way to better Windor, and to deflect the brunt of the Archduchess’s ambitions.

“She’s always been this way,” was all Rica said about it. “Mother doesn’t think so, but I’m certain.”

When the clock struck again in the hall, it happened too soon. With a sigh, Rica admitted that she needed to be leaving, even though it was not yet midnight, or else there would likely be a sizeable commotion. And so they stood, and so they wrestled Rica back into her ballgown, the state of which hadn’t improved much in the time between.

“Isabel, may I have your hand?” Rica requested once this feat had been accomplished.

“Huh?”

“Your right hand,” she clarified.

Isabel held her palm out, but to her surprise, Rica turned it over and slid the cryas ring onto her finger. Isabel recognized it immediately as the one she’d worn when they were kids. The metal was warm, probably Rica had been holding it clasped in her lap this whole time.

...Well, for most of it at least.

“I meant to give this to you a long time ago,” Rica admitted.

“What? Why?? This is your mother’s heirloom, isn’t it?”

“It is, but I’d prefer for you to have it.”

Isabel fretted. She knew how terrible she was at keeping track of things. The minute she took it off, it was bound to disappear, lost forever as a result of her carelessness.

“What if I misplace it? You shouldn’t have to part with something so important.”

“If it’s something important, I’m sure you’ll keep it safe, Isabel. And… I won’t be parting with it permanently. I’m not sure when it will be, but let’s promise to meet again.”

Isabel stared down at the ring, at the way their hands pressed together. It already felt like a promise. Except...

“Wait, but. Once the rain’s over, they’ll call us away on a field mission. It might be weeks or even months before we return to the academy.”

“I can be surprisingly patient when I want to be,” Rica answered. “It has been four years already, you know.”

Isabel felt a flush of guilt.

“It’s all right,” Rica reassured her. “Besides, I can only imagine how busy things might become between now and then. It may be that I’m the one who can’t come to see you right away. That’s why...let’s not worry about ‘when’. Let’s simply do what we can to see that we meet again like this, eventually.”

“Okay,” Isabel said with a nod. “In that case, I’ll hold onto it for you.”

“Until our next rendezvous, then.” Rica smiled again, her grip loosening. But before she could completely let go, Isabel took a step forward, bringing their joined hands to her lips.

“It’s a promise.”


End file.
